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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297062">Yuletide Cheer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dexterous_Sinistrous/pseuds/Dexterous_Sinistrous'>Dexterous_Sinistrous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prince of Thieves [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Robin Hood Fusion, Long-Haired Derek Hale, Lord Derek Hale, M/M, Maid Marian Derek, Outlaw Stiles Stilinski, Robin Hood Stiles, christmas ficlet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:54:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,808</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dexterous_Sinistrous/pseuds/Dexterous_Sinistrous</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kind lord,</p><p>Your presence is requested by your most humble of servants. Follow the trail along the stream to the old willow should you grant my deepest wish of seeing you before the Yule log is burned.</p><p>-Your humble and devoted thief</p><p>Derek shook his head, a fond smile pulling at his lips as he pocketed the parchment. He knew the trail the letter spoke of, having walked it more than once with Stiles since they married. He finished what he could before departing, following along the parchment’s instructions.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prince of Thieves [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072610</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>162</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Yuletide Cheer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy Yuletide! This is a small Christmas gift from me to you. I had another story I was working on, but things got in the way. I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Derek busied himself with the Yuletide festivities, grateful Peter allowed the celebrations to continue now that he had returned from the wars. He helped with the decorations, showing various children how to weave the holly and winterberries into an artful wreath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek was surprised when a child tugged on his robes to gain his attention. He looked at the child, prepared to ask what they needed when a scroll of parchment was offered up to him instead. He smiled at the child as he accepted the parchment. He was bewildered to watch the child run away, back to his friends. He looked around him, only able to see people busying themselves with the work to be done before the festival started. He unrolled the parchment with ease, recognizing that the writing belongs to Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kind lord,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your presence is requested by your most humble of servants. Follow the trail along the stream to the old willow should you grant my deepest wish of seeing you before the Yule log is burned.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your humble and devoted thief</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek shook his head, a fond smile pulling at his lips as he pocketed the parchment. He knew the trail the letter spoke of, having walked it more than once with Stiles since they married. He finished what he could before departing, following along the parchment’s instructions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The snow had dusted the ground, though not covering the path completely. Derek was grateful for his boots making it easier to traverse. He gathered the base of his cloak in his hands as he descended down by the rocks leaning into the glen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The willow stood proud at the bottom of the small glen that divided the forest. It was the starting point for those hunting in the King’s Woods, tales of the area being haunted by spirits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek believed Stiles breathed more life into the rumors of hauntings as a way to keep the area to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small hunter’s hut laid beneath the willow, one that Stiles had spent time restoring to better accommodate him when he traveled through the woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek wasn’t surprised to find the small fire outside the hut burning, evidence of it being a while since someone started it. He smiled to himself as he moved to sit on the log by the fire, taking in his surroundings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A beauty like yourself should not be wandering the forest on his own,” a familiar voice spoke, the sound of snow crunching beneath feet announced someone approaching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek smiled to himself as he shook his head out of fondness. “My uncle is the King, and these are his woods,” he playfully answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your uncle, the King,” the voice whistled in interest. “Quite a find, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you intending to harm me, sir?” Derek questioned, turning and looking at the person approaching him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To harm such a man would surely place me within divine wrath,” Stiles answered as he walked around the log Derek was sitting on, moving in front of him. He knelt down next to Derek, offering up the item he had concealed behind his back. “Too beautiful a creature for me to even consider harming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek looked down at the crown of holly Stiles was offering him. He lightly laughed, dipping his chin some. “I thought thieves stole from the rich, not gifted them crowns,” he playfully answered as he took the crown from Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles hummed, as if he was considering Derek’s words to be a newly intriguing idea. “Perhaps I could have my wicked way with you instead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or I with you,” Derek replied. “Though my husband would not like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A fool for having left your side,” Stiles countered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A fool indeed,” Derek echoed, leaning in to kiss Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles accepted Derek’s kiss, being careful to not crush the crown of hollies between them. “I missed you,” he admitted as he pulled back from their kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I you,” Derek replied. “Though you aren’t supposed to be home for another week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles devilishly smiled, pleased at his own feat as he recalled the annoyance of more than one noble. “Your uncle was kind enough to dismiss me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You made a scandal, didn’t you?” Derek knowingly asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All part of my plan, and it worked,” Stiles laughed as he lifted the crown from Derek’s hands, placing the wreath of hollies on Derek’s head. He was careful of Derek’s hair, making sure to not pull or disturb any of the braids. “A scandal was worth suffering if I got to see my beloved husband sooner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek looked away from Stiles, a blush rising on his cheeks. He wasn’t sure he’d be used to Stiles’ flattering words, even after years of marriage. Even now, he still felt the same giddiness he had as a child whenever Stiles was present.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t like the Yuletide,” Derek reasoned, trying to change the subject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you do,” Stiles answered, moving to sit beside Derek on the log.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Yuletide was Claudia’s pride. She worked to orchestrate the festivities to benefit all in attendance, not just the rich. She would tirelessly decorate, even pulling Stiles into the spirit when she would get him to twist and weave hollies together into wreaths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you are back,” Derek stated, reaching his hand out to intertwine their fingers together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What type of hero would I be if I left my fair Lord to take on such duties by himself,” Stiles playfully answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You stole me away from such duties,” Derek replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles hummed in agreement. “Which means I do have you all to myself,” he mused as he leaned into Derek, bringing their lips together in a kiss. He reached his hand out to cup the back of Derek’s neck, shifting his body to fit together with Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek smiled, opening up to their kiss as he cupped Stiles’ face in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look like a dream,” Stiles stated as he pulled back from their kiss. He brushed his thumb over Derek’s cheek, admiring him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek laughed at Stiles’ words. “I’d say you’re drunk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rude,” Stiles mumbled, leaning in for another kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek took his crown of hollies from his head, placing it out on the hearth’s mantlepiece. He fondly smiled at the crown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t give you my gift,” Stiles stated, struggling some with his boots. He tried kicking off the boots, almost falling off the side of the bed. He sighed, his head spinning from the ale. He should have asked Isaac just how strong he had made this brew before partaking in the contest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek knelt in front of Stiles, lifting his leg with ease as he slipped his husband’s boots from his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles reached his arms out in an attempt to sit up. He grabbed the bed post, pulling himself upright. He smiled at Derek, touching his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to give me gifts,” Derek replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yuletide tradition,” Stiles answered. “Peter helped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek looked up at Stiles. “We can open gifts in the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles reached for Derek, pulling him closer. “You’re a gift.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek smiled, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ lips. “Sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only if you’ll join me,” Stiles answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek helped Stiles to pull his shirt off over his head. He made easy work of pulling Stiles’ trousers down next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My lord, you’ll make me blush,” Stiles mumbled laughter as he nakedly attempted to get up the bed and under the furs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek folded Stiles’ clothes, setting them on the dressing chest. He faintly shook his head when he realized Stiles abruptly fell asleep. He started to remove his own clothes, preparing to join his husband in bed. He easily slipped the ties from his hair, slowly unbraiding the hair into loose strands as he brushed his fingers through it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles mumbled something about honeybees as he eventually turned over to cuddle against Derek when he felt him slip into bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek wasn’t sure how long they slept, knowing the fire had died down a significant amount despite the fact that the sun had yet to rise. He woke to the feel of someone brushing a strand of his hair back from his face. He opened his eyes to see Stiles resting beside him, propped up to look over him with ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you vomit?” Derek partially laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles partially groaned, looking away from Derek. “Head was spinning for a while.” He leaned over Derek, reaching for something beneath the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek pretended to be annoyed with him, his hand smacking down in Stiles’ bare ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles laughed as he finally leaned up, draping himself beside Derek as he covered himself back up in the warmth of the furs. He presented a small velvet bag to Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek looked at the bag, forcing himself to sit up some. “I thought I said tomorrow,” he started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is tomorrow,” Stiles rationalized. “Besides, when the sun is up, you’ll be called away to do something. I want us to have some time,” he added. He sat up, pressing a kiss to Derek’s bare shoulder, watching him as he inspected the bag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I bought it this time,” Stiles uttered. “Promised.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was going to say, tell me you didn’t over do it,” Derek replied as he looked at Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing is over done when it comes to me showering you with gratitude,” Stiles stated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek pulled the strings of the velvet bag, revealing its contents to sit in the open bag in his lap. He picked up one of the small silver ringlets in the bag. He turned it, inspecting it closer to see the etchings. He recognized them immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stiles … how--” Derek’s voice cut off as he picked another ringlet up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re not the same ones,” Stiles explained. “I spoke with Peter--he remembered them better than I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s father wore ringlets in his hair, pleated in the braids he wore. The adornments would sometimes move, from day to day, depending on how he had decided to wear them. They belonged to the de Bruys clan, passed from parent to child. When his father died in battle, someone had cut his braids, stealing the silver pieces for themselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were only children when … I just couldn’t remember them all,” Stiles explained why he needed Peter’s help. He brushed his fingers through some of Derek’s hair, pulling the strands apart as he started to braid one piece. “I promise not to burn your hair this time.” He took one of the ringlets from Derek’s hand, taking his time to slip the silver ring into the hair as he continued to pleat the hair. He brushed his fingertips over the pleated hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek turned, placing a kiss to Stiles’ lips. “Thank you,” he softly uttered between kisses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles kissed Derek back, curling close to Derek as he wrapped his arm around Derek’s back. “Happy Yuletide cheer, Derek.”</span>
</p>
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